


Aramis' occasional need

by Kitacular



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Anal, Dom/sub, Humiliation, Light Bondage, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Spanking, Switching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-17 11:54:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5868418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitacular/pseuds/Kitacular
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, Aramis needs to lose control.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aramis' occasional need

**Author's Note:**

> This is pure filth and I love them for it.

Porthos smirked to himself, gathering the cards, feeling Aramis' eyes on him.

“Porrrrrthos...” Aramis murmured for the third time, walking past him and drawing his fingers across his brother's neck.

“Come on, d'Artangan. Your turn to deal,” Porthos said, ignoring him. He stifled a laugh as he heard an exasperated huff behind him.

  
  


They'd only been back in Paris a few hours after a fortnight in the field. For the last ten days Aramis had been seeking quiet moments together but Porthos had been purposefully surrounding himself with the rest of the men.

It didn't happen often but sometimes... Aramis needed to be made to wait.

  
  


“Perhaps we should call it a night?” Aramis asked loudly.

Porthos smirked and glanced up at the sniper. He had been petulantly throwing himself into various chairs around the inn all afternoon. He'd accidentally kicked d'Artagnan under the table in a misguided attempt to reach Porthos. He'd also received a kick from Athos when he'd been caught trying to entice Porthos with his hand under the table.

“Perhaps we should,” agreed Porthos, standing suddenly.

Aramis blinked at him in surprise. Porthos had been ignoring his increasingly pointed requests and suggestions to go home since they'd arrived in Paris late morning.

Porthos had swept majestically from the table and reached the door before Aramis had managed to pick up his hat. He flashed Aramis a wolfish grin as he held the door open for him.

Out of habit, Aramis made to link his arm with Porthos but found he was walking just slightly too far away. He frowned in confusion and felt a sudden lurch in his stomach as Porthos flashed him a smile. A smile full of love, full of laughter, full of promises.

Porthos smirked as Aramis' eyes widened and he fell into step beside him. He knew, without a doubt, if Aramis had genuinely wanted to leave earlier or wanted to hold his arm, he would have done so. It seemed that Aramis was more than happy to spend the evening being played with.

  
  


  
  


Reaching their apartments, Porthos strode up the stairs ahead of his lover. He did, however, still pause and hold the door open for Aramis, who smiled tenderly as he brushed past him.

Aramis kept flashing Porthos curious glances as they both removed their accoutrements, hanging them up together. Porthos ignored each and every glance, raising his arms above his head and stretching. He finally looked at Aramis and raised his eyebrows.

Aramis drank the sight in. He dragged his eyes up the length of Porthos' body. The two of them had been together as lovers for years but he still found Porthos' body made his mouth water. As his eyes followed the line of his partner's chest and across his throat, he found colour rushed to his cheeks when he realised Porthos was watching him arrogantly.

Aramis jumped, noticing that he'd frozen halfway through removing his coat. He dropped his eyes to the floor and quickly shed his coat, missing the stand, his hands trembling slightly. He glanced at the coat and back up to Porthos.

The silence between them was heavy. On any normal day, it would have been Porthos' responsibility to tidy up but today didn't seem to be a normal day. They regarded each other. Porthos' only movement was to lower his arms from his ostentatious stretch to his sides.

After what seemed like an eternity, Aramis leaned down and picked his coat up, turning slightly to place it on the stand. Porthos took this as both permission and an invitation.

His hand shot out like lightning and gripped the back of Aramis' slender neck, catching the dark waves in his hand. He pulled him sharply back against his body and felt Aramis shudder.

“You have been shameless,” he growled quietly into Aramis' ear.

Porthos' hand moved round to Aramis' throat and pinned his head back against his shoulder. His other hand landed unerringly against Aramis' groin.

“You've been trying to get me alone for weeks while we've been away. I bet you've been watching me bathe, watching me ride, imagining me against you. Haven't you?” Porthos whispered, squeezing both of his hands with his question. As Aramis' cock began to harden, Porthos flexed his fingers around the familiar shape.

“Yes,” Aramis gasped.

“Why?”

Aramis couldn't answer, he'd begun to writhe against Porthos' body. He gasped again as Porthos' hands tightened on him. The first flickers of pain were beginning in his groin but the arousal coursing through his veins quickly defeated it.

“Why?” Porthos asked again, increasing his grip.

“I want you,” Aramis gasped as the pain seeped into his awareness.

“Why?”

Aramis writhed in confusion, his hands fluttering uselessly at his sides, unsure what Porthos wanted.

“I don't know,” he whined, pressing himself back against Porthos' solid body.

“Why have you been seeking me alone? Why have you been watching me when you think I don't see you? Why are you getting aroused this close to me?” Porthos growled, his grip slowly increasing on Aramis' throat and cock.

“I want you,” Aramis repeated, twisting against Porthos as he felt the first restrictions on his breathing.

“Why?” Porthos repeated, maddeningly calm.

Aramis whined loudly, the pain beginning to dampen his arousal but the increasingly choking hand driving it higher.

“I need you,” Aramis answered breathlessly, his hands beginning to tug slightly at the cruelly gripping hand on his groin.

“Why? Why do you want me? Want this?” Porthos asked, yanking on both of his hands so Aramis was forced back against his body.

“You're... you're so-”

Porthos tightened his grip on Aramis' throat, cutting him off.

“Not me. Why do **you** you want this?” Porthos asked, pressing his own clear arousal against Aramis' backside.

“I don't know,” Aramis whined, Porthos' grip making speech difficult.

“You do. You know. Why? Why are you so shameless? Why are you writhing against me? Why do you watch me? Why are you trying to entice me with your movements?” Porthos asked, pressing himself against Aramis again.

Aramis gave a strangled cry as Porthos' grip suddenly increased on his cock, a flash of pain running through him.

“I'm a slut,” he gasped desperately.

Porthos' hands immediately loosened their painful grip and his thumbs began stroking him.

“Yes. Yes you are,” Porthos replied, his voice lowering to a growl again.

Aramis felt the first prickles of humiliation running up and down his spine. This was what he needed. This was what Porthos could do that nobody else could. His face was hot and the shallow breaths he was taking had nothing to do with Porthos' hand on his throat.

Porthos walked them slowly across the room, stopping in front of the bureau against the wall. He pushed Aramis roughly to the floor, letting go of him. He sank to his knees beside Aramis and gripped the back of his neck.

Aramis began to tremble slightly under Porthos' hand. He watched as Porthos reached for the hidden key and unlocked the bottom drawer. This was where they kept their various implements. Porthos had never beaten Aramis and he'd never requested it.

Porthos felt Aramis' uncertainty and squeezed his neck gently. Under his hand, he felt Aramis take a deep breath. He rifled through the drawer and found the strip of dark silk. He released his grip on Aramis' neck and quickly blindfolded him, feeling Aramis' trembling increase.

Aramis was never one to submit easily and without his sight, he grew less and less compliant. He was a sharpshooter. He relied on his eyes. He couldn't help the sudden frisson of rebellion as Porthos lowered his braces. He pulled away from Porthos, his jaw clenching. Another ripple of rebellion shivered down his spine as Porthos roughly pulled him back towards him.

Porthos grinned to himself, seeing Aramis' frown above the line of navy silk. He yanked Aramis' shirt over his head and suddenly gripped Aramis' wrists. He felt Aramis wrench his wrists, trying to get away. Porthos gripped the back of Aramis' neck and turned him roughly to face him. He kissed Aramis aggressively, thrusting his tongue rudely into Aramis' mouth, swallowing his gasp of surprise.

Aramis found his breath taken away by Porthos' assault. He tried fruitlessly to reciprocate but Porthos' lips crushed his too hard for him to gain any traction. He surrendered to Porthos' mouth and found this made him even more forceful. He felt Porthos' invading tongue reaching for him and moaned helplessly.

Porthos growled, hearing Aramis' moan and used the hand on the back of his neck to push Aramis' face roughly to the floor between his legs, leaving his bottom high in the air. Porthos quickly moved forwards, settling with his knees spread either side of Aramis' shoulders, pinning his face and chest to the floor. He waited a beat for Aramis to begin to struggle and as soon as Aramis pulled his hands out from under his chest to push against the floor, Porthos drew them up behind his back.

Aramis struggled helplessly on the floor, Porthos' weight immobilising his torso. He yelped as Porthos roughly grabbed his wrists in both of his hands and was completely unable to resist, panic rising in his throat as Porthos deftly tied his wrists together.

Porthos felt Aramis shuddering beneath him and waited, feeling Aramis slowly calm down. As he let go of Aramis' freshly bound wrists, he watched Aramis pull against the rope and smiled as Aramis breathed an audible sigh of relief. Porthos knew Aramis couldn't submit without force and he was happy to oblige.

Porthos stroked his hands over Aramis' upturned backside, caressing the leather gently. He sighed loudly and felt Aramis shudder beneath him as his hands roamed possessively across the cheeks. One of his hands continued to rub Aramis' bottom, feeling him beginning to move against the wandering hand. With his other hand, he delved into the draw again and felt Aramis tense underneath him, hearing the noise.

The slighter man shuddered, feeling Porthos finally move off him. He was slightly startled by how gentle Porthos was, pulling him upright. He sighed slightly as Porthos kissed him tenderly.

Porthos moved his mouth down to Aramis neck, tilting his head up gently and trailing light, breathy kisses down his lover's throat. He stroked his hands across the blindfold, his fingers gentle. Aramis began to grow restless and Porthos chuckled darkly.

“See that, my little slut? When I'm nice to you, it upsets you. You don't want to give yourself to me, do you? You want to be taken,” he growled dangerously into Aramis' ear.

Aramis could only moan in reply. He pulled on the ropes on his wrists and a hot wave of shame rush over him as he acknowledged the truth in Porthos' words. Porthos returned to his aggressive man-handling and roughly groped him through his breeches.

Aramis moaned again and he flexed his hips against the insistent hand. Porthos' rough touching made him feel so violated. It was unfriendly, it was possessive, it was presumptive.

His hands gained no gentleness when they roughly began to undo his clothes. Aramis whimpered uncomfortably as his rough fingers withdrew his hardening cock and crudely wrapped around his length. Aramis instantly hardened in his hand and thrust involuntarily into Porthos' grip.

“Whore,” Porthos hissed, withdrawing and standing up suddenly.

Aramis whimpered at the insult and leaned dangerously far forwards with the loss of Porthos' closeness. Porthos wound his hand into Aramis' hair and steadied him.

“Look at you, slut. Panting, kneeling for me, blind and bound. Look at your cock, hard and aching for me. This turns you on, doesn't it?” Porthos asked, letting go of his lover's hair as he regained his balance.

Aramis didn't reply.

“Can you imagine how you look, whore? Even your mouth is hanging open,” Porthos continued.

Aramis closed his mouth suddenly and whimpered, not realising he'd been panting so hard. He whimpered again as Porthos' hand returned to his hair and used it to painfully pull him forwards, making him knee-walk across the hard floor. He gave a muffled yelp as Porthos pushed him roughly forwards so he fell against the well padded sofa. The feeling of falling terrified him with his hands behind him.

Porthos watched Aramis trembling against the sofa and knew what had upset him. He waited a beat until Aramis had felt the sofa beneath his chest and knew he was stable before he crouched behind him.

Aramis yelped again as Porthos' rough manhandling continued and he felt his boots pulled down his legs, his hose rapidly following. His breath was shallow again as Porthos crudely yanked his breeches and small-clothes down, exposing his bottom to the air.

There was a tense silence in the room. All that could be heard was Aramis' ragged panting against the sofa.

“You need this, don't you slut?” Porthos asked, standing above the kneeling bare form of his lover.

“Yes,” whispered Aramis, his skin flaming with shame.

“Cock hanging out, trying to entice me with your arse. Bet you'd love me to fuck you, wouldn't you?” Porthos continued.

Aramis simply moaned in reply. His hips gave an involuntary lurch at Porthos' words. He didn't know if he was genuinely trying to beg Porthos or whether his straining cock was just desperately seeking some friction.

“Beg me, slut,” Porthos said, brusquely.

Aramis moaned again and hid his face against the sofa. He heard Porthos chuckle darkly and a ripple of anticipation travelled down his spine. He felt Porthos kneel behind him and inhaled sharply as the darker man leaned over his bent form.

Porthos moulded himself to Aramis, drinking in his scent, running his hands firmly up and down Aramis' sides. He debated whether to remove Aramis' breeches entirely but there something so tawdry about him being semi-undressed and knew that Aramis' deep need for humiliation would appreciate it.

Aramis moaned again, feeling Porthos had shed his own shirt and his bare chest was pressed against Aramis' back. He luxuriated in the hungry hands exploring his ribs and waist. He arched his back and tried to press against Porthos.

“None of that, greedy whore,” admonished Porthos.

He pulled Aramis up by the hair and roughly stroked his cheek, his fingers trailing over the blindfold, robbing Aramis of his sight. He took Aramis by the throat again, holding their bare skin together. He held his hips back, amused by the sight of Aramis' buttocks searching for him.

“Wanton little thing, aren't you?” Porthos asked, his free hand roaming self indulgently across Aramis' stomach. “Are you aching to be touched, slut? Is that why you're so hard? You're desperate for me to take you in my hand? Would you like that, slut?”

Aramis moaned helplessly, the humiliation rolling through him, unable to deny Porthos' words with his cock throbbing painfully, inches from his lover's broad hand.

“You're just my helpless little whore, aren't you?” Porthos growled, his voice losing some of its calm as he felt Aramis shuddering against him.

Aramis moaned loudly at the word helpless and Porthos felt the trapped wrists as his stomach fluttering, pulling on the rope slightly. He writhed against Porthos as the broad hand on his stomach ran up over his pale chest, rubbing across his nipples.

Porthos smiled at the sharp intake of breath and took one hard nub in his fingers and rolled slightly, feeling Aramis buck against him. He released his grip on Aramis' throat and his other hand found Aramis' other nipple.

Aramis dropped his head back onto Porthos' shoulder and moaned loudly as his lover's fingers manipulated him like only someone so familiar could. His nerves were on fire, every twist and touch of Porthos' fingers making Aramis' cock throb painfully.

“Please,” whispered Aramis, turning his head blindly to seek Porthos' face.

“Please what?” asked Porthos, moving close enough to almost kiss Aramis, pulling back slightly when Aramis tried to do so.

“Please,” Aramis said again.

“What do you want, my little slut? What do you **need**?” Porthos asked, his fingers pinching Aramis' nipples enough to elicit a pained gasp from him.

“Oh pleeease,” moaned Aramis, his hands flexing desperately against Porthos' stomach where they were trapped.

Porthos chuckled darkly and pulled himself to his feet, making sure his kneeling lover was steady before stepping away.

Aramis began to tremble again. He could hear Porthos moving around and could feel his eyes on him. He sucked a breath in when Porthos knelt beside him but moaned in disappointment when Porthos simply lit the fire. He jumped as Porthos trailed his fingers across his bare backside before walking away again.

His head was filled with how he must look. His cock was still hard and throbbing painfully, fluid continuing to gather at the tip. There was a deep ache in his belly, desperate for Porthos to touch him. He could feel the warmth of the fire as it crackled merrily, casting its heat across Aramis' exposed buttocks. He hated Porthos for leaving him exposed like this. It made him feel vulnerable, unprotected. He could feel his clothes bunched around his knees and it made him feel... accessible. As the word formed in his mind, he moaned again.

Porthos blinked at the seemingly unprovoked moan and moved to study Aramis' face. A lot of his face was obscured by the silk cloth covering his eyes but Porthos knew him well enough to read him. His cheeks were still flaming red and his mouth had dropped open again. His breathing was rapid, shallow and uneven. Porthos watched with fascination as Aramis leaned forwards slightly, arching his back up and sticking his buttocks out slightly.

Silently, he unlaced his own breeches and small-clothes. He stroked himself a couple of times and tightly held the base of his cock. He stepped around Aramis and watched with amusement as Aramis' nostrils flared, recognising Porthos' cock by smell alone.

“That's right, slut,” Porthos said, sitting down on the sofa. “I'm touching myself looking at you.”

Aramis moaned and leaned forwards but found Porthos' hand met his shoulder and held him back.

“Dios! Please!” Aramis moaned. Porthos grinned at the Spanish lapse.

“Please what, my needy little whore?” Porthos asked.

“Please. Please!” he moaned in reply.

Porthos moved his hand to Aramis' hair and held him tantalisingly close to the tip of his cock.

Aramis inhaled deeply, straining forwards to try and reach Porthos' cock.

“Please let me taste you,” Aramis moaned, tears of frustration forming beneath the silk.

Within seconds, he had been pulled forwards and Porthos had pushed his cock deeply into Aramis' willing mouth. Porthos began to use his dark hair to pull him up and down Porthos' cock. After a few violent thrusts, he held Aramis off his cock.

“What do you say, little slut?” Porthos growled.

“Thank you!” moaned Aramis without hesitation.

As Porthos resumed using Aramis' hair to guide his mouth up and down, Aramis felt a huge wave of shame crash over him. The gratitude he felt at the violent use Porthos was putting him to touched his core and he moaned around Porthos' thick cock. He was light headed with arousal, the humiliation covering him like a fog and making his skin tingle from top to bottom.

After a few long minutes Porthos pulled Aramis off his cock once again.

“Such a gorgeous slut,” Porthos growled. “Cock begging for attention, mouth open and willing, arse out waiting for me.”

Aramis moaned, a fresh wave of shame covering him at the reminder of his exposed buttocks. He dropped his head as Porthos released his hair, feeling him standing up. A shiver of nerves ran along his spine as he listened to Porthos shedding his clothes.

Porthos sat back down and took a minute to calm down. He watched Aramis closely and saw his breathing calming down but could tell from his still hard cock that it was peace, not lack of desire. He smirked to himself.

“Come on then, whore. Up,” Porthos barked, interrupting Aramis' calm. His cock throbbed as heard the whimper from his pale lover.

Aramis struggled to his feet. Without his arms to provide any balance, his movements were jerky and uncoordinated. He knew his intense arousal was also making him unsteady.

Porthos leaned forwards and finally pulled Aramis' remaining clothes down his legs. He held Aramis' waist and tapped his legs in turn until he stepped out of the pooled garments. Porthos pushed Aramis back a step and stood.

“Spread your legs,” Porthos barked.

Aramis whimpered and complied. He could feel Porthos circling him. His hands flexed uselessly in the rope bindings and he wished desperately he could see Porthos. He felt the steady warmth of Porthos at his back at whimpered at the proximity.

Aramis' knees almost buckled when Porthos gently probed between his cheeks, drawing a firm line between them.

“Spread yourself for me, whore. Show me where you want me,” Porthos growled.

Aramis whimpered again, his long fingers trembling as they managed to pull his cheeks apart. Porthos' rough hands spread them wider, pushing them up where Aramis' fingers obediently caught the flesh, opening himself to Porthos' predatory gaze.

Aramis' knees gave another tremble when the tip of Porthos' thick finger pressed against his entrance. He was dimly aware of the oil on Porthos' finger before he felt him press gently into him.

“Sweet Lord, please!” keened Aramis, pressing back against the invading digit.

Porthos obligingly pressed his finger all the way into Aramis and couldn't suppress a growl as he watched Aramis thrusting unconsciously. He quickly withdrew his finger and listened to Aramis moan at the loss.

“Such a needy slut,” Porthos growled, stepping around him and sitting back on the sofa.

He sat sideways on the sofa, grateful for the high arms. He gently guided Aramis by the hips until he was knelt either side of Porthos' pelvis, facing away from him.

In the movements, Aramis had lost his grip on his buttocks and whimpered, too lost in shame to protest, as Porthos harshly spread them open and up into Aramis' waiting fingers. He moaned wantonly as Porthos pressed two fingers against his entrance and began to circle gently, spreading oil all around him.

“Please, please,” Aramis panted, trying to press back against the digits, fresh tears of frustration beading under the already damp silk as Porthos kept moving his fingers, never actually entering him.

“Please what, slut?” asked Porthos, the mocking in his tone setting Aramis trembling again.

“Dios! Please! I need you inside me. Please! I'll do anything!” Aramis cried out.

His cry suddenly turned into a loud, uncontrollable moan as two fingers were roughly thrust up into his body. His entire body shuddered and his head dropped back. Porthos' hand caught the dark hair and held it, not letting Aramis straighten back up.

“You're such a dirty whore,” Porthos sneered, his words penetrating Aramis' emotionally foggy brain. “Look at you, opening yourself to me. Begging me to fuck you. I bet your dirty cock is still hard and aching to be touched, isn't it? Well come on then, filthy boy. Show me what you want,” he finished, roughly twisting his fingers in Aramis before stilling them completely.

Aramis moaned and writhed on Porthos' fingers, the overwhelming shame of his position putting him beyond words. He finally began to rise and fall on Porthos' fingers, impaling himself on them. Another set of tears sprang to his eyes as his disgrace was complete.

“You dirty dirty slut,” Porthos hissed and Aramis felt his insides twist at the words, even as his cock gave another throb of pure want.

Porthos wished he could see Aramis' eyes. The love he had for the man placing this trust in him made him want to thank him but he knew Aramis would need to stay lost at the moment. He began to twist his fingers each time Aramis wantonly lowered himself on Porthos' fingers, noting the way he had begun to speed up.

“Want more nasty boy?” Porthos asked and he saw the dark waves bouncing as Aramis nodded eagerly. “Say it,” he barked and was rewarded with an agonised moan from Aramis, the shame still evident in his reaction.

“Please. Please, more. Please!”

“Why?”

Aramis moaned again, the tortured sound making Porthos subtly clench his own cock hard.

“I need you to... to... I want...”

“Say it!” Porthos snapped.

“I need to feel used!” cried Aramis helplessly.

Porthos growled and quickly added a third finger, taking control of the movements and giving Aramis his wish. He sat up and wrapped his free arm around Aramis' chest, holding him close.

Aramis would have collapsed forward if Porthos hadn't been holding him. His lover's fingers were demanding, insistent, rough. They gave Aramis exactly what he'd asked for and made him feel defiled, used and most of all, taken.

Porthos listened to the moans and cries from Aramis and growled. Aramis' body had trapped Porthos' own cock against his stomach and the constant movement was making it harder to concentrate. After long, long minutes when Aramis' muscles were giving absolutely no resistance, Porthos abruptly removed his hand.

Deftly, he picked Aramis up and settled him on his knees on the sofa, facing the back. After a little bit of height adjustment, during which Aramis was finding it impossible to hold still, Porthos quickly drizzled some oil onto his thick cock and pressed against Aramis' unresisting entrance.

As Aramis moaned, Porthos growled, their voices meeting in the otherwise silent room like a beautiful harmony. They both froze for a moment as Porthos settled himself in Aramis' body, his hips pressed against Aramis' buttocks and his chest pressed against the smooth expanse of Aramis' sweat covered back. A sigh of pure unity echoed between them before Porthos dragged himself upright and slowly began to thrust in and out of Aramis' willing body.

Even with the violent finger fucking that went before, Porthos' girth was something that took Aramis' breath away each and every time and he was always immensely grateful that Porthos took his time, even if Aramis didn't always recognise the need.

Porthos groaned with the tension of holding himself back and finally felt Aramis' body relax around him. He began to thrust in earnest, watching the trapped hands on Aramis' back flutter helplessly as he was forced to accept Porthos.

Aramis moaned loudly, moving with Porthos. He tried to press back against his lover, something primal awakening in him and held in check by the blindfold and rope on his wrists. He revelled in his captivity and clenched his muscles around Porthos' invading cock trying to draw him in deeper.

Porthos' movements became feral, brutal. Aramis' moans became whimpers and cries, his entire body on fire. Porthos listened to the rising urgency in Aramis' unintelligible pleas and leaned forwards without pausing in his relentless pounding to see Aramis' face. There were damp patches on the silk and Porthos snarled, a feral noise that shook Aramis to his core.

Porthos pulled out suddenly and watched Aramis panting heavily, his entire body trembling with tension and pure need. He grabbed the cloth he'd retrieved earlier and cleaned himself very very gently. He gripped himself until he had to bite his own lip from the pain. When he'd finally calmed down he stroked his hand up and down the quivering back of Aramis.

When Aramis' breathing had settled, Porthos drew him off the sofa and onto his feet. He was careful not to make his movements too gentle, needing Aramis to recognise the firmness in his grip.

Aramis' legs were shaking as Porthos stood him on the rug. He took deep breaths and managed to hold himself steady when Porthos' hands left him. He was dimly aware of the noise of Porthos sitting back down on the sofa.

Porthos reached for him and guided him forward onto his stomach across his lap. He felt Aramis jerk in surprise and begin to struggle at this new position, suddenly realising Porthos' intent.

“Shh, shh,” Porthos soothed, pinning him down and rubbing Aramis' pale buttocks soothingly. “Dirty sluts need to be punished, don't they?”

Aramis shuddered helplessly, his back arching to press his buttocks into Porthos' hand. He felt fresh tears of humiliation stinging his eyes behind the blindfold as he realised this was just making him even more aroused.

“That's right. Be my good whore,” Porthos murmured. “You know what you need. Tell me, dirty slut.”

Aramis' body began to shake as all of his humiliation, his shame and his unbridled desire crashed over him and tears trickled from his eyes, the silk dampening around them.

“I... I need to be punished,” Aramis choked out as his body succumbed to tears.

Porthos' hand came down suddenly on his cheeks, the noise loud in the quiet room. He lifted his hand and saw the reddened print of his hand on Aramis' cheeks. He had no great desire for Aramis' pain but he knew Aramis needed this tonight.

Aramis kicked his legs out as the second blow fell, the pain taking him by surprise but he made no real move to get up. Porthos began striking him regularly, alternating between his bare cheeks.

Aramis' body was racked by sobs as he felt every ounce of his shame draining out of him with each impact. He sagged against Porthos' lap, his bound hands on his back lay limply, accepting Porthos' treatment.

Porthos lightened his blows as Aramis' weeping subsided to quiet sniffles. He began to stroke Aramis' cheeks in between each blow, getting increasingly lighter and smirking as Aramis' body began to writhe on his lap.

Aramis was suddenly reminded of how unbearably turned on he was as his trapped cock was rubbing against Porthos' thigh. Each blow made his entrance throb, remembering how thoroughly he'd been fucked. He started to move against Porthos' thigh deliberately and almost immediately he was scooped up and sat on Porthos' lap, facing him.

Porthos kneaded into the reddened flesh, listening to Aramis hiss. He found Aramis' entrance and pushed two fingers in immediately, listening to Aramis moan loudly. He pressed Aramis forwards until he was leaning on Porthos' chest.

“My beautiful slutty boy,” Porthos murmured.

Aramis searched blindly until he found Porthos' lips and kissed him hungrily. He moaned against Porthos' mouth as his lover's other hand snaked between their bodies and found Aramis' neglected, throbbing cock. As Porthos stroked him firmly, Aramis threw his head back and moaned again.

“Love,” Porthos said hoarsely, watching Aramis in awe. “So sensitive, hmm?”

Aramis began to move between Porthos' hands, simultaneously pressing himself between the invading fingers and the hand around his member. He could feel the determination in Porthos' hands. Hands that knew him well, fingers that knew exactly where to put pressure, where his sensitive places were.

Porthos grinned, watching Aramis utterly lost to pleasure. He heard the shift in Aramis' breathing that meant he was beginning to spiral. He shifted until his mouth was pressed against Aramis' ear.

“Come for me, love,” he growled before dipping his head and biting Aramis just below his ear.

The room echoed with the sound of Aramis' release. His long, low moan seemed to go on forever and it was music to Porthos' ears. His entire body tensed, his back arched. His mouth was in a perfect 'o', his hips thrust forwards with the angle of his back. Porthos was breathless, watching the beautiful creature astride him. For long, long seconds, Porthos simply watched Aramis, lost in sensation.

As Aramis relaxed, curling forwards and falling forwards against him, Porthos removed his fingers from Aramis' body and smiled when it caused a tremor to run up and down his limp form. He quickly found the cloth beside him and cleaned off his fingers before managing to undo the ropes holding Aramis' wrists. There was a soft whimper of protest but Porthos shushed him. He stood, lifting his exhausted lover and turning, laying him on his side on the sofa.

Porthos knelt beside him and retied Aramis' wrists together, in front of him. He continued his clean up, swiping across Aramis' stomach and then his own. He took extra care with Aramis' overly sensitive cock but couldn't stop the shudder the touch caused. Porthos made himself comfortable on the floor beside the sofa and watched Aramis closely. He couldn't stop himself fingering the leather strap Aramis had placed on his leg all that time ago.

He realised Aramis had fallen into a light doze so he retrieved a blanket to place over the peacefully sleeping man. Porthos stood and moved around, tidying up the piles of strewn clothes. He got himself a drink of water and brought a full skin of water back with him. Aramis must have heard him approach because a smiled stretched across his face and he sighed comfortably.

Aramis smiled lazily and helpfully tilted his head forwards to assist Porthos in removing the silk blindfold. Porthos held his warm, broad hand over Aramis' eyes, shielding them from the light until they had adjusted slightly. He moved his hand to stroke Aramis' dark waves and felt his heart stop at the love in Aramis' eyes when they blinked a few times and then locked with his.

“I love you, mi vida,” Aramis whispered, his voice hoarse but calm.

“I love you too, mi sol,” Porthos replied, his voice thick with emotion.

Porthos lifted the water skin and Aramis lifted his arms out of reaction and raised an eyebrow, finding his wrists still bound. Porthos just smiled and guided the skin to Aramis' lips. He drank deeply and rested his head against the sofa, watching Porthos carefully.

“You ok?” Aramis asked.

“Most definitely,” Porthos answered, grinning widely.

“Ready for bed?”

“If you are,” Porthos replied uncertainly. Aramis still looked extremely drowsy.

“Fetch a blanket and pillow and sleep there,” Aramis said softly.

Porthos smiled broadly and pressed a kiss into Aramis' hair. As he moved around their apartments, fetching the required items and seeing to the fire, he could feel Aramis' eyes on him. He was eternally grateful for Aramis' unwavering ownership. Even now when he was exhausted and still under the fog of surrender, he was looking after Porthos.

Porthos made himself a bed but sat up to look at Aramis, who met his gaze calmly and they just watched each other in silence for a long long time.

After an immeasurable period of time, Aramis leaned his head forwards and Porthos kissed him tenderly. Aramis met the kiss slowly, lovingly, sighing contentedly against him. Porthos' hand stroked gently up and down Aramis' arm.

“Time for sleep,” Aramis murmured, his eyes growing heavy.

Porthos pressed a kiss to Aramis' forehead and settled into his makeshift bed on the floor beside Aramis.

“Thank you, my boy,” came Aramis' sleepy voice.

“You're welcome, Master,” Porthos replied and together, they drifted off.

 

**Author's Note:**

> For reference, my Porthamis are in an established Dom/sub relationship where Aramis is on top but sometimes, Aramis needs to switch. If you want to read how they got that way, read my More Than Brothers series.
> 
> Comments feed my muse and I love you all for them :)
> 
> Prompts and requests always welcome at kitacularao3 at gmaildotcom :D


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